Death precedes us with a Knowing Smile
by L'sTrueHeart
Summary: Ciel is known all around to be a teenage boy either touched by God or the right hand of the Devil. Though he is a great detective the Queen is finding that someone should keep him in line. Too bad that would be a demon with a fetish for boys like him.
1. Chapter 1

Death precedes us with a Knowing Smile

Chapter One

Transylvania, 1887

A torrent of torches and pitch forks stood high in the air as the town's folk of Transylvania made their march up the treacherous trail to Dr. Frankenstein's large castle.

"He's alive, he's actually alive!"

The doctor shouted with glee as he looked down at the experiment he had lifted back down from the stormy sky. Noises of dark cheering could be heard through the open glass window to his laboratory and he pushed away his thinning dark brown hair and ran quickly over to said window. Looking out to where the black cloaked people stomped; his brown eyes widened and he ran to get his things. He knew something like this might have happened; they were ramming the door down!

"Success."

A man cloaked in all black spoke as Dr. Frankenstein turned around. He shouted out in fright and quickly scrambled away only to let out a breath in relief as he recognized the face.

"Oh Count, it's just you."

He breathed out.

"I was beginning to lose faith, Victor."

The man spoke with a rich accent. He moved stealthily toward the window a dangerous look in his eyes.

"A pity your moment of triumph is being spoiled over a little thing like grave robbery."

"Yes, yes I must escape this place."

Victor ran back to the things he had started to collect to take away with him.

"Where are you going to run, Victor?" The man had somehow vanished and was now walking across a wooden walkway from up above. "Your peculiar experiments had most hearts wept in the civilized world."

Dr. Frankenstein grabbed a large amount of equipment under an arm and ran back into the room moving to the trunk he was packing. "I'll take him away, far away where no one will ever find him."

The doctor had yet to notice that the Count was now walking across the top of the fireplace. The fire burning brightly with scorching heat, consumed the logs at a fast rate.

"Oh no, Victor…"

The man stated as the doctor gasped looking behind him as he threw the items into the opened trunk.

"The time has come for me to take command of him."

The doctor's eyes narrowed in question and confusion. "What are you saying?"

The trunk snapped shut harshly and as he turned around to face the man who was angrily up in his face. "Why do you think I brought you here? Gave you this castle, and fixed your laboratory!"

The doctor looked scared and yet so innocent. "You said you believed in my work."

"And I do."

The Count spoke his voice no longer holding anger. "But now that it is as you yourself have said a triumph of science over-JOY!" Sparks flared up and out of the machines and the doctor quickly looked away as the man cloaked in black stood on his feet. "It must now serve my purpose."

The doctor slowly stood on his own two feet. "What purpose?"

They rammed at the door again, people cheering all the while as the door finally broke down letting them through.

"Good God, I would kill myself before helping in such a task!" The good doctor exclaimed backing up into the metal slab table where his newest creation laid awake and moving in its restraints. "Feel free I don't actually need you anymore, Victor." The Count spoke truthfully. "I just need him." He looked down at the doctor's creation standing on the other side of the table. "He is the key."

"I could never allow him to be used for such evil." The doctor spoke quietly as the Count smirked.

"I could. In fact my brides are insisting upon it." The Count moved around the table where the doctor backed away slowly. Neither of them noticed that the creation on the table had now let its made hands curl into fists.

"Igor, help me!"

"You have been so kind to me doctor. Caring, thoughtful, but he pays me."

The small, hunched man spoke with an evil grin on his face.

Quickly the doctor looked around until his back was up against the right side of the fireplace where a sword hung. He took the sword out and thrusted it out in front of him where the Count stood a few steps away. "Stay back." The man cloaked in black smirked and shook his head lightly.

"You can't kill me, Victor." And as though to prove that point the Count stepped up to the sword and let his body be pierced by the tip. He moved closer and closer until he was stopped by the hilt, the whole time watching the doctor's face morph into both terror and disgust. "I'm already dead." The Count grabbed onto the doctor and let his true form come out. He bit the doctor and at the same time took out the sword from his body relishing in the doctor's suffocating screams. Igor scared at what his new master actually looked like ran, as the creation that no one at the moment noticed broke from its restraints. The Count let the body fall to the floor and he fixed his hair before wiping away the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. He walked over to the table where the creation was supposed to be but was currently empty. A yell broke out from somewhere unknown and a large piece of machinery was thrown at the Count. It hit him and threw him back into the fireplace where everything sparked and the flames consumed. Frankenstein made his way over to the doctor and carefully picked up his dead carcass.

Igor made his way out of the castle and looked up to the mob that was running up into the castle he smirked and kept going. The door he had gone through opened again and the creation his former master had made stepped out holding the doctor's body.

"Dr. Frankenstein!"

Igor yelled out earning the attention of the large mob.

"There it's headed for the windmill!"

Back inside the castle the machinery that was trapped inside the fireplace was thrown across the room as the man cloaked in black and on fire stepped out. His body bleeding and torn muscles showing before it started to quickly heal back. His long, black, luscious hair the last thing to come back; the Count tucked a loose black bang behind his ear. Before letting his body grow into its true monstrous form. A large roar erupting from his mouth.

The mob was just behind the creation but he made its way inside of the windmill and closed the door behind him. Alcohol and books were strewn all around including up on the wooden stairs it was taking to the top.

"Burn it, burn it down!"

People screamed and cheered as they threw their torches at the windmill. The flames easily caught the wood on fire and the windmill went up in flames. At the top a door swung open at the doctor was carried out by the creature. "Why?" It screamed. "Why?"

Loud screeches were heard from four monstrous forms. They came flying down as everyone ran screaming for their lies. "Father." The creation spoke sadly to the dead doctor before screaming out as the windmill broke and the flames destroyed.

The Count now in his human form walked up to the burning windmill three women running up behind him in whimsical outfits. "No!" They all screamed as their arms reached for what now laid dead inside the burning windmill. The Count stared at the scene no emotion on his face.

...

Three Years Later

Black, polished shoes clicked ever so slightly against all white marble floors; the sound you could not have heard unless you had unbelievably strong hearing, even then you might still not have heard them moving close to two large, black, wooden twin doors. There were no handles to these doors; from the outside they held only two large golden knockers that a human would not have been able to lift. The man smirked as he raised a white gloved hand to the door, lifted one all gold knocker and brought it down swiftly one time. It only took mere seconds for the sound of groaning wood to be heard as the large twin doors were pulled inward to let the summoned guest standing in front of them through.

The room was dark even with sunlight being streamed in from the front. A large throne stood in front of large glass windows and the man clad in black strode over to said throne where a body of a feminine form sat, casted over in quiet shadows. Getting to one knee in front of said lady the man said nothing as he heard the woman sit up straight from her slouched position.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it Sebastian?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"I used to be so much younger when I had first needed your assistance; that was when dear Albert was still alive."

Sebastian did not look up from where his head was bowed as he heard Queen Victoria sniffle.

"Here you are your Majesty."

A man's firm voice spoke, which Sebastian knew all too well to be Ash, the Queen's personal body guard. Ash swiftly handed the Queen his handkerchief that he kept tucked between his sleeve for if such an occasion was to accrue. The Queen sniffled again and dabbed at her face under the black veil she still seemed to feel was fit to wear.

"Anyways, ahem, once again I must request your assistance."

"A letter wouldn't had sufficed?"

A short throaty laugh from the Queen was the answer to Sebastian's question; if anyone else had been in his postion they would've twitched in annoyance under the gaze of Ash and the Queen. But there Sebastian stayed bowed with his head, stock still.

"No, a letter would not have been as thorough I believe. This time it is for personal reasons, I need you to find someone for me. His name is Phantomhive, Ciel Phantomhive."

The name Phantomhive sparked an old flame inside of Sebastian for good reasons and the man's human head finally lifted slowly to stare at his Queen. His red eyes were bright though no emotion was held in their depths from where the Queen was sitting.

"Would you like me to dispose of this Ciel?"

"Oh, heavens no!"

From how the Queen quickly reacted flustered Sebastian's eyebrow quirked upward.

"I need him to be brought to me by you. That is all I can tell you for now. More will come for both you and Ciel but I will only tell you this information after you have retrieved the boy and have brought him to me."

The Queen folded her hands together on her lap in a gesture Sebastian had learn as her way of signaling the discussion to be over. Standing up, back onto his feet he swiftly took the woman's precious hand and made a show of lightly kissing her pale knuckles. Sebastian moved back bowed again a hand on his chest over his 'human' heart and stated the words,

"Yes, your Majesty."

...

Life sucks and then you die.

I can positively state this to anyone and everyone who comes across my path and asks for my opinion. But who would take the time to actually talk to a boy fifteen of age looking like I do? Scraped down to wearing black dirtied knee high boots that stretched over my ripped black slacks which were tucked into them. A smudged with some dirt white shirt that I tucked in to make it seem like I wasn't purposely trying to be indecent. Luckily the shirt was kind enough to actually seem to fit my slim, as some nicer folks would put it, figure and I tried covering the fact of my malnourished body by wearing a large dusted black coat that reached to the heel of my boot. It seemed to do more damage than good at times when I meant to be serious and men stared at me like a small insolent pup trying to fit in with the big dogs. But now with the wind chilling the air I wrapped the long sleeves of my coat around my body hugging myself in a gesture to keep my own body heat and I was glad I had actually stolen this off of a drunk months ago.

...Months, years, weeks, days, hours, minutes, and seconds, so much time that seemed to be erased from my mind. I can't remember... I couldn't find any information on who I was or what I've done from my past years. After waking up in a dark alley with a torrent of cold rain smacking against my naked form there was nothing that I could recall before it.

Damn, it was cold.

The sensation of ice pricked at my fingertips before all feeling disappeared in my hands. My breath came from my lips much like wisps of smoke I watched come out of the slouching men smoking along the local bar's counters. A feral growl erupted from my stomach and I clutched my arms tighter around my lower abdomen. It was snowing and my feet seemed to move slower than they had minutes before.

It was cold, I was hungry, and now the street I was walking down seemed to be turning upside down.

At the corners of my eyes I watched a darkness slowly creep over until my vision was completely covered by a dark shroud. I heard more than felt the sensation of the bones in my legs creaking before crumbling and hitting the ground and then the rest of my body. I knew my eyes were closed because I heard the sound of my eyelids snapping shut and my cursed long eyelashes running over my pale cheeks. Footsteps were making sounds like sloshing in the snow as the noise came closer to where I assumed I possibly was...

The world went black.

...

Two Months Later

I was tired from walking back all the way to St. Paul's cathedral after yet another black stallion I had been given as transportation was devoured yet again by that damn werewolf I was supposed to capture. Too bad... I gave it the choice to come with me quietly or be killed and it chose the latter. What was I to deny it it's want for bloodshed? Good riddance; and the fury mutt could burn in hell now for making me walk so damn far. Two days! Two long, torturous days on my behalf to find a way of getting back. Taking the large steps up to the cathedral's entrance I moved quickly over to the last confession box where a young girl with two black braids had stepped out of. I hated Sunday's always the busiest days. It seemed to be a ghost town inside the large vacancy of the treasured holy temple on any other day, what was so special about this day? Of course the Father's had attempted to get me to read the bible but I had no heart to put forth a half attempted effort to accept their religion. Sure I had no idea what faith I was supposed to believe in because all past memories were gone so instead I decided to not adopt one, it seemed only fair. Closing the small door to the wooden box, I sat myself down slowly and cleared my throat ready to speak my code words.

"Bless me father for I have-"

"Sinned, yes and all, you're very good at that."

I couldn't stop the smirk that formed on my face as Father Gregory tried to scold me. I had wanted to answer with an affirmative, "How true." But instead out of some form of respect I held for the man I closed my mouth and stayed quiet.

"You shattered the Notre Dame's roof's window, Van Helsing."

"Well not to split hairs but the werewolf was the one who did the shattering."

Oh my, he's addressing me by my code name he must be very upset. Father Gregory, I had learned, only seemed to use my code name, Van Helsing which he had handed down to me, when he was upset with me. The Fathers believed it was a privilege of some sort to have my real name spoken to me, for what reasons I was unsure of.

"Thirteenth century over six hundred years old. I wish you a week in hell for that."

I felt my eyes narrow sharply, fingers clenching above my lap though the action in itself didn't make sense to me. I've been through some form hell for sure.

"It would be a nice reprieve."

The small cloth that covered the small iron window was moved before the small window was open so I could see Father Gregory's frowning face without anything obscuring the view

"Don't get me wrong your results are unquestionable but your methods attract far too much attention. Wanted posters? We are not pleased; though thank the Lord no one has a valid description of you."

"Do you think I like being the most wanted man in Europe? Why don't you and the Order do something about it?"

"Because we do not exist."

I felt my rage boiling over. They wanted me to handle this all on my own! My head was wanted on a silver platter because of them.

"Then neither do I."

My voice came out in a dangerous whisper and I stood up to leave. I heard Father Gregory pull a sharp lever and I let a frustrated sigh sound from my nostrils as an iron gate fell over the door which was my only exit. Father pulled yet another lever from where he was sitting and I watched with no fascination as the wooden wall separating us disappear by sliding into the ground below my feet. Following the hand gesture Father gave me as to follow him I obliged for there was no way else to go but forward. We walked together once again down the same passage way we had for months now, no words were spoken for at least a minute.

"It was clear to us that you were sent here to do God's work."

Great, I had him starting this speech again. The one where it was God's plan for me to have blacked out in front of the cathedral in Paris where Father Gregory had visited to hold a meeting for the Knights of the Holy Order and he just happened upon my body.

"Why can't he do it himself?"

I muttered unhappily while Father stopped for a short moment.

"Don't judge him."

Father spoke sharply to me before continuing down the stairs.

"You have already lost your memories. If you wish to recover it I suggest you continue to heed the call."

I stood next to Father as he used two fingers to roam over my body in the sign of blessing.

"And it seems that if it hadn't been for us you wouldn't have found out your true name, Ciel Phantomhive."

As Father Gregory spoke my name; I shivered. It still seemed so new to me; we had only learned of my real name a week or so ago. Like the title actually belonged to someone else completely different to the man I was. We were under the cathedral, it was funny to think, that I, the one who had no belief knew more about this cathedral then most people did who actually had the belief that this massive church exploited. That someone such as me who didn't give a damn for a religion could see such secrets that many I guessed would want to know of such things. What irony. Monks were hammering away like black smiths to metal that would become swords. Some testing out on new weapons, many consisting with a gun like quality. Sparks flew from everywhere and the buzz of chatter and hard working, scruffy men filled my ears once again. The familiarity of it made the tension between my shoulders dissipated and I let my shoulders sag only slightly. Father once again stopped in front of a lab table and turned to fully face me.

"Without us the world would be in darkness. Governments and empires come and go but we, we have kept mankind safe since time itself."

If Father had, had his back to me I would've rolled my eyes; this speech got old after the second time hearing it.

"We are the last defense against evil. And even the rest of mankind has no idea that we even exist."

"Yes Father, though I would love to continue with this speech I must inquire if there is any other reasons I'm down here? If not I wish to return to my sleeping quarters."

Father huffed indiginatly and motioned with his right hand for me to come closer. Once I had stepped to Father's side one of the many monks that I didn't particularly care to know turned a machine toward a drape of red velvet fabric that took up half of a stone wall. There was an empty flickering light casted against the fabric before a picture that was for the most part blurred appeared. From what my eyes could make out -and I had learned that squinting made the picture focus more- was that the picture was of a man dressed from head to toe in a black attire. But then again this was a black and white photo so it wasn't right for me to assume that his suit was all made of a black material.

"As of late the order has heard of a man clad all in black who recently has been seen all over town."

I couldn't take my eyes off the picture. It was easy for me to make out the body shape, the man had a lean structure with long legs, his posture -from what I could make out- seemed to be straight and he had a nice build though he seemed to be slim. The face was hard for me to make out; he had black as night hair that was tittering on the edge of being long and needing a small trim. Squinting harder I felt my heart skip a beat as two visible eyes struck out at me with such intensity it was like they were staring into my soul. Those eyes seemed so foreign and hungry, yet calming and familiar; a shiver passed down my spine. Quickly I cleared my throat because for some odd reason it had become quite tight and I nodded my eyes no longer squinting and the blurry picture once again becoming hard to make out.

"I'm going to assume that this man is not normal?"

I watched as Father folded his arms together, the wooden cross that hung from his neck was tightly wrapped inside of his shaking fingers. I raised an eyebrow and decided that the shaking was not from what we were discussing as he looked at the picture but rather from his old age; or at least I hoped it was from old age.

"We've gathered that he is from the workings of Hell."

It became quiet for a few moments all around until the sounds of machines and hammering came back to life around me.

"A demon...What do you want me to do?"

"The Order wishes for you to bring this demon to us."

"Has he killed anyone?"

"Yes, we just don't know under what circumstances."

I felt a migraine coming on. I'm going after something that I really have no idea how to beat into submission.

"When will I be leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning you may begin your search."

Father Gregory handed me a large sack after another Father had given it to him. The brown leather sack was then handed to me and I tried not to hiss at the weight. Were boulders shoved into this?

"Everything you may need to protect yourself is in that bag."

Only protect myself?

"Alright."

I tightened the strap to my new found luggage and pushed my bangs from my hair. It was about time for me to cut it.

"Then, I'm off."

As I reached the exiting stairwell a hand grasped my forearm.

"Yes, Father?"

Father Gregory's eyes fluttered to and fro for a few seconds before he let his gaze land on me.

"He goes by the name, Sebastian Michaelis."

Instantly, I felt my body go cold, hands go numb, as my heart sped up. That name...did it seem...Quickly I shook my head, I needed to keep focus. Looking down at Father I smirked, stuffed hands into my pockets and took a few steps up the stairs before turning around.

"Cute."

I commented with a sneer before making my way out.

...

Father Gregory sighed heavily as he shook his head lightly.

"Her Majesty the Queen will be quite happy with your services Father. Ciel Phantomhive is being put into good hands."

A hand gripped the Father's shoulder tightly as the voice finished speaking in both a low baritone voice with a hint of amusement. The figure cloaked in white moved up the stairs as Father stood stock still.

"Dear God, what have I done?"

...

The cold rain fell against my shoulders like bullets making the luggage I had strapped to my right shoulder weigh me down. As quickly as I could through the dark, damp streets of London I made my way to where I would be resting for the night; the same place that I had quartered at for a few months now. Walking into the little shack of a bar the light shone through the darkness passing beyond me outside into the night. Heads turned to face me, some men even raised their pints to gesture a familiar "hello". I nodded to them as I passed by, the waitress that whored herself out to willing men smiling flirtatiously...Disgusting. As I made my way to the back of the bar the creaking steps I took made me wince and I tried to make it up into my room by quickening my pace. Shutting the slightly cracked wooden door -that seemed to barely be hanging onto its rusted hinges- behind me, I let the large, brown leather sack fall to the floor with a loud thud. Wet tendrils of my hair stuck to my forehead and I sighed heavily as I extracted the damp clothes I wore from my shivering body. Looking around my room I noted yet again how small my living space really was. There was a cot in the back right corner of the room, ripped cotton sheets adding as my only warmth for sleeping at night. A small wooden two compartment dresser on the left where a candle was already lit for me; wax making small trails to the bottom where it started to make a small pool. The only window stood across from me and was rapping harshly from the rain hitting against the glass. Making my way to my piece of crap dresser I pulled out my undergarments and after adjusting those on my small hips ran a hand through my soaking hair. Opening the second door to my dresser I pulled out the exact same brand of black slacks I had just worn only this one was warm and a tad tighter than the ones wet over by my bedroom door. Finally some hope of me finally growing bigger! I let the cool fabric of my nice navy blue shirt slide against the skin on my arms and back and I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. My cot groaned as I sat myself down on the ratty covers and pulled my soggy black knee length boots towards me. With the towel that I used to dry most of my hair I worked on drying the entirety of the boots before slipping them back on my feet without socks. As I finished lacing them up -having the same amount of trouble tying them as usual- the sounds of merriment could be heard and I felt my lips twitch upward. Who was I to deny myself a free night to be joyous and party before I had to set out on my quest to find this Sebastian character? Buttoning up the rest of my shirt I tapped the heels of my boots against the wooden floors before standing up and making my way back down to the bar. The bar owner who also tended to the bar was a middle aged man with light blond hair and even lighter strands of stumble for a beard on his chin. His eyes were a dull green that always seemed to hold some type of merriment emotion in them. I made my way to the bar's counter and sat my bottom down on a rickety wooden stool, the third leg slightly shorter than the other two making it easily off balanced.

"Aye, Ciel you'va come down to visit ol' me?"

Harold spoke grinning from ear to ear as he leaned over the counter next to me cleaning a glass cup he kept to serve brandy in. I almost shivered as the man spoke my true name but I kept myself together and smiled politely; fake.

"Aye couldn't leave an ol' fella like you workin' all by 'urself can I?"

I had learned over the past month that when I spoke with intellect like how the nobles did I was often shunned. It was much easier for what I would have to call ourselves "low life peasants" to speak with an easy flow of mashed up English. Harold chuckled at me and sat out a small shot glass. The rim of the glass slightly chipped on one side.

"Now I know it ain't right to be given ye this but one won't kill ye will it."

I grinned as Harold poured me a shot of alcohol and took another shot glass out for himself.

"Cheers!"

Harold called out and we both swung our heads back and downed the shot quickly before snapping the glass back on the counter. The liquor burned the back of my throat and made my tongue slightly dry; just the way I liked it.

"Thank ye 'arold."

Harold nodded and I watched as his head snapped to the front of the bar where the door swung open. Turning in my stool I followed the direction of Harold's gaze to watch a man with ghost white skin stroll in. I tried as hard as I could but for some reason I couldn't find it in myself to look away. From where he stood and the way the door was still open letting the darkness creep into bar like haunting shadows it was hard to define his figure but from what I could tell he had a lean structure and his posture was quite straight. The man wore a black suit with polished and tightly laced shoes that stood out against long, slender legs. His hair was as black as the night sky behind him and was tittering on the edge of being indecently long and needing a small trim. My body instantly went rigid as the man turned his attention towards me his eyes were a bloody liquid crimson that held so much intensity it felt like they were prying my body open and staring into the depths of my soul. Those eyes seemed so foreign and hungry, yet calming and familiar; a shiver passed down my spine. I watched the man smirk as his eyes never left mine.

"What's a noble doin' 'ere?"

Harold muttered and I had to physically tear my eyes away from the man to look up at him, but I could still feel the stranger's eyes on the back of my skull.

"'ow can ye tell 'im a noble? An' who knows maybe he 'eard 'bout 'ur great drinks!"

Harold's eyes narrowed as they looked down at me. No humor could be spotted in his normally playful eyes.

"There ain't somethin' right 'bout the air round 'im. It all dark an' scary."

I couldn't help but chuckle nervously at Harold; so I wasn't the only one who seemed to notice.

"I think ye might 'ave 'ad too much to drink!"

Harold shook his head and the frown he had on his face quickly evaporated into another shining smile.

"'ur right me boy! But it odd...I neva' seen a man of nobility wearin' the only color black."

I felt my insides freeze over as something with strength grasped my shoulder and Harold's gaze looked over my right side. Looking up as well was the man who had stood at the door and without a sound snuck up behind me and grasped my shoulder as though I were an old acquaintance. His smile...no his smirk held something close to venom as he stared at Harold then made his scarlet eyes trail down to me.

"I'm looking for someone."

He stated a matter of factly. His voice making my heart pulse roughly against the front of my ribs. It was so soft and smooth, and he smelt like peppermint and soothing spices that I was sure couldn't have been of this world; so enticing. Gagging for air I roughly pulled my shoulder out of the man's firm but light grasp. Glaring daggers at so formally being touched I growled at the man; mannerism dropped completely.

"And what the hell do you want us to do about that?"

The man didn't seem fazed but I could hear Harold chuckling behind me. A smirk appeared on the man's pale face and his red eyes shined brightly.

"My, my, what could a young boy like you be doing in a place like this at night?"

I felt my eyes widened and a blush spread across my cheeks as Harold all but laughed at how the stranger in front of me called me a boy. I hated that word with a passion. Opening my mouth to recant I felt Harold pat my head before turning his attention back to the stranger.

"Who ye' looking fer? We can't 'elp ye if we don't gotta' a name."

The stranger nodded but he never let his eyes leave my face and I stared back with the best death glare I could muster. I was not a boy, I was a man! His smirk never faltered but only seemed to grow stronger, more sinister.

"His name is Ciel Phantomhive."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or Van Helsing no matter how much I pray that I did. **

Death precedes us with a Knowing Smile

Chapter Two

Ciel Phantomhive...that's me...

Was it my imagination or did the noise in the bar upon hearing the name Phantomhive become silent? I tried to not let the stranger's un-nerving stare get to me but my shoulders were filled with heavy tension. The silence roamed for hours it seemed and it would have if it weren't for Harold's booming laughter. And if not for the stranger latching his hand to my shoulder pushing me down into the stool, I would've fell to the floor in fright. H-how did he -

"Haha 'hat a good one 'ur pulling!"

The man's eyes glowed like fire and narrowed like a snake's as his smirk shifted into a sneer.

"And why would that be?"

His voice might have spoken softly but I could hear the venom dripping just underneath. Harold who didn't seem to notice the cold glare directed his way only shifted closer to the stranger and leaned on the counter beckoning the stranger closer like it was an important secret.

"Well the Phantomhive's were -"

Through the men's drunken cheering and the girl's flirtatious giggles the faintest sound of the phone ringing behind the bar's counter could be heard. That damn thing still worked; Harold rarely ever used it. Forgetting what he was going to say about my family he picked up the phone and chirped " 'ello?".

Watching his smile sink into a sour expression his eyes flickered over to me before going to his hand which was tapping against the counter's top.

" 'eah, I understand sir."

Hanging up the phone Harold went back to his work and set a brandy out for the stranger without him ordering. Suddenly remembering his presence by the cold hand clutching my shoulder like iron I swatted it away angrily after much prying and leaned forward on the stool.

"Who was that?" I whispered keeping my eyes locked with Harold's; he couldn't lie to me.

"Man named Fat'er Greg ir somethin'. Told me to tell ye that someone spotted ur' friend in black. Not sure what 'hat means. Said 'e were 'ere already."

Friend in black? Wait that meant -

"Well it seems I've over-stayed my welcome. Thank you for your time."

The stranger's voice broke through my clouded mind and he chuckled softly. I felt ice cold fingers slide lightly up the back of my neck before twirling a few of my locks. My body shivered before he took his hand away; I could feel his warm breath next to my ear.

"It was nice meeting you...Ciel Phantomhive."

I think my body became paralyzed at some point because before I had fully turned around in my chair I was watching the stranger - no my target flee out the door. Sebastian Michaelis...the demon who has murdered both men and women for an unknown cause.

"Dammit!"

I screamed before jumping off my stool and out the bar's entrance into the stormy night. The rain was close to hailing as I ran blindly outside into the night. With the bar's door swung open the light from inside consumed my figure and I saw the faintest movement of the demon's wool trench coat.

"Freeze!"

I heard someone far off yell as I ran down the same alleyway the demon went through. Planting myself in front of the alley's entrance I could see the silhouette of the demon at the end of the end. A large brick wall was blocking his exit; he'd have to go through me to get out. Raising my head I pointed and accusing finger at the demon whose red eyes glowed much like a cat's would.

"Sebastian Michaelis, you are wanted by the Knights of the Holy Order for the murders of four men and six women. I'm giving you the option to either come quietly to discuss your deeds or for me to hunt you down."

Chuckling reached my ears; I grounded my teeth together.

"For a boy your age you have much confidence, I'll give you that."

"I AM NOT A BOY!"

BANG

Smoke filled my nostrils as blood pooled into my mouth. Pain blossomed from my chest and my knees wobbled before, like a tree being cut down, they collapsed.

"Ciel!"

A voice screamed but my eyes were already closed, the agony from my wound began to form in my throat and out of my mouth in whimpers and moans.

BANG

Somehow through the blood in my throat and mouth an inhuman scream rang through the air. It took me a moment to realize it was me. Pain so overwhelming was coming from my left leg. Something metal was thrown to the ground before the sound of a man's gurgling scream was cut off by a harsh snap. The rain seemed to push my face farther into the dirt and grime of the alley's floor. The sound of rushing footsteps could be heard or was it the sound of my pounding chest that I was hearing? Possibly the blood rushing out from my chest/leg wound? Cold slender fingers cupped my face and I started to choke on my blood that was stuck within my throat. Gasping for breath I spat and coughed while I cried out in pain.

"Ciel, you need to put pressure on your chest wound."

The cold hands on my face roughly grabbed my frozen hands and pushed them with inhuman strength against my gapping wound.

"Yes, hold it like this."

"It hurts..."

I whimpered as my body lost the solid ground underneath me and gravity didn't hold me in its grip and instead cold, strong arms did.

"I know...you're still just a child."

The inside of my head was banging but the word 'child' made my eyes snap open ever so slightly. Red eyes gleamed and stared through me and into my soul, pale lips stationed into a tight lipped frown.

"Not...c-child."

I insisted and I watched the demon's face twitch in amusement. If I had been more clear headed I would've noticed how the air rushed around me and the way the background flashed quickly like we were on a speeding train.

"No...I guess you're not a child. A overly proud teenager is more accurate."

"You...m-mean..stupid."

My eyes closed; I didn't see the demon smile.

"Yes, you are very stupid, Ciel."

'My dead body won't do any good for this demon.' I thought; chuckling, which could have been made played off of the strings to a violin resonated through my ears.

"No but you're not going to die, Ciel...Your almost home."

Had I spoken out loud? I don't remember doing so. -

What home was this demon speaking of? I had no home from what I could tell. What was a home like anyways?

Among the thousands of questions the only thing I could sputter out of my mouth was the one word - "Home..."

A body dressed all in white made his way up to a woman perched upon her glamorous throne. Bowing the man raised his head, red eyes glowing.

"Your Majesty, it would seem that Ciel has been caught by Sebastian."

The Queen smiled gently; Sebastian had never failed her.

"Then I expect you to escort them here within the hour. Once they are safely within the walls of my establishment I would like you to report back to me."

Ash nodded, his eyes glowing a dark crimson before dulling and twisting to the color violet.

"Yes, your Majesty."


	3. Chapter 3

Death precedes us with a Knowing Smile

Chapter Three

The world was bouncing, almost in choppy movements that were never-ending. Something wooden kept creaking and my ears twitched slightly. My back was against something plush and my right foot seemed to be dangling off of whatever I was laid across. Even with a heavy head I could conclude that from the neck up my cranium laid in something much more firm then a cushion; it seemed to be elevated more than the rest of my body.

"Is he awake?"

A male's voice spoke, it had a light and airy feel to it. Heels creaked against the floor; my chest felt extremely heavy and there was no feeling in my left leg. There was someone over me, I could feel them. Their breath was as cold as ice and it ghosted over my face like they were waiting for me to wake up. Even though my eyes were closed I could see a shadow of a hand cross over my face, the tips of his fingers touched my lips before they were roughly yanked away.

"My, I've never see you react such a way for someone before!"

The man was practically gay with happiness. A feral growl erupted right above me, closer then the other man was. The sound was like no animal I ever heard before, and the noise rolled down from the crown of my skull through my spine and out the tips of my toes.

"Won't you let me asses the damage? Her Majesty wishes for me to give her a full report after bringing you to her estate."

"He'll be fine; I'm taking care of him. It'll take some time for the gun shot wounds to heal. The chest wound will heal first, the bullet hadn't hit any major organs. His left leg will take much longer due to the fact the bullet had gone right through the bone; six to eight weeks at the most...Humans are such fragile creatures and he is only a child."

Sebastian spoke, and even though I was trying to hard to keep quiet I could feel my cheeks heating up in embarrassment. It stayed quiet for a few minutes. The rickety movement was starting to make my stomach feel nauseous; my chest felt so heavy it was getting harder to breathe.

"I see, well thank you for that information. I will have the maids set two rooms for you; don't worry about his luggage, everything he had has already reached her Majesty's estate."

There was a small pause.

"It's odd though, couldn't you just heal him and make him all better? Or is that considered too nice of a demon to do?"

A door was opened and then closed the sounds of expressionless laughter left behind.

...

"He's gone; you can open your eyes now."

My body tensed and I instantly flung my opens in rage.

"How dare you call me a child-"

Lifting up my head quickly I stopped in hazy -due to my head feeling heavy- shock at how close my face was to the demon's. Our noses were just barely touching and I could see that his crimson eyes actually had small hints of soft pink -barely noticeable unless you were looking for it-. (If I hadn't been so distracted from our current situation I was sure I would've made fun of the demon for having such feminine colored eyes.) The demon's lips were stretched out over his face in a condescending smirk. My chest felt heavy and sitting up hurt. Breath hitching I turned my head away.

"Rest your head; you shouldn't move around yet."

He spoke with no emotion and his cold fingers firmly grasped my temples and guided the back of my head down to a clad in black pant leg; which connected to his body. That is what my head had been resting upon? This monster's lap? Disgusting! If the thought of two men resting against each other in such a taboo way wasn't going to kill me then knowing that not only had I been in this position -for who knows how the hell long- but I had been in "this" compromising position with the enemy would perhaps. Specifically an enemy that resided in the depths of hell.

Could my luck get any worse?

With my own inner debate I had given the demon free reign in controlling my body and found that my head now, once again, rested against the demon's leg. Taking a calming breath -because panicking never gets anyone anywhere as you could see from my earlier display- I quickly took in my surroundings. The choppy movements I had felt before was coming from the carriage I was staying in -it only having two small shaped doors that was the only form of exit for me- which had flimsy cushioning and material that would make a peasant excited and a noble cry in sorrow. All of which I carefully filed away if needed in the near future. Such information was unlikely to be used again but with having the job I do, one must always be ready to have a plan or any information that could be used to their advantage or you could easily be killed. Like I almost had been.

Quietly contemplating what I should do with my enemy so near and having no form of weapon to defend myself I had little to none options. Coming to a simple conclusion, I decided it would be in my best interest to find out as much as I could on the demon above me and find any means of escaping if I was not to be killed.

"What happened?" The obvious question to ask first. Of course, I did need to know how I found myself in such a predicament before trying to find out about the demon. Seeing that I was acting docile for the moment, the demon's crimson eyes pierced me as though trying once again to pry open into my very being though really he was just staring. A quick moment later a nasty sneer appeared on the his face -twisting it just enough to look menacing and steal my already labored breathing away- and his eyes glazed over in a reminiscing manner.

"Scotland Yard, those incompetent weasels just don't know when to stop interfering with things that have nothing to do with them.-"

The sneer and dazed eyes melted into a stone mask and if I had been blinking I would have missed the last flicker of emotion cross the demon's eyes; was it anger? I couldn't put it past speculation so I simply dropped my train of the thought on the matter. I stayed silent in hopes that the demon was at least smart enough to understand that I was allowing him to continue, so that he could elaborate in more detail what the police had to do with my current position. Of course, having to be ensnared with a rather bright demon I didn't wait long for him to continue.

"From what I have deduced a rather unintelligent officer of Scotland Yard had the presumption that a child-"

I made a very undignified snort which the demon took all in stride, without missing a beat he continued on.

"of your age was following a man such as myself into a dark alleyway for a narcotics exchange. As of late it is true that drugs have been being stashed around by different owners, but to assume someone like you is, mildly putting it, vain at the very least."

Was I supposed to take that as some form of compliment? How stupid was I becoming? A demon couldn't hand out compliments...could they?

"...-and after assuming that you carried a form of firearm and were going to attack, which is absurd, the man fired. One such as you probably wouldn't even know how to operate a low standard pistol."

I growled underneath my breath; he was pushing his luck!


End file.
